subjectives

by extenuatingcircumlocution

"In short, she hated him. She was comfortable around him. He was her nemesis, her biggest muse. She didn't want to be around him. She needed him. People without enemies simply wouldn't get it." In which Mikan and Natsume have been sworn enemies since kindergarten and she suffers immensely when he decides to join a study competition class just to get under her skin.

10. subject x: speech or i can beat him!

A/N: hello all! this is the last chapter of subjectives. i hope it's a good ending. i have spent more than a year on this story and have had so much fun writing a way-too-long fic about mikan and friends in a dorky class that i personally loved in high school. i will look back on the time i spent writing this fic fondly, and i'm sad to see it end. but i'm also proud of myself, and i do hope you all enjoyed it! please look forward to the next natsumikan fic i post, since i've already started writing it. thank you all for reading this far, and i hope you enjoy this last lesson in academic decathlon!

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Academic Decathlon Subject X: Speech. Prepared and Well-Rehearsed Speech, Between 3 ½ and 4 Minutes in Length, in Addition to an Impromptu Speech Responding to a Random Topic, 1 ½ to 2 Minutes in Length.

Hyuuga Natsume Decathlon Subject X: I Can Beat Him. Or I Want to Beat Him. I Want to Feel Like His Equal. But Everything I Got I Got Because He Gave It to Me.

After the Academic Decathlon Competition

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"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up." - James Baldwin, "In Search of a Majority."

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Mikan did not text Natsume back when she got home.

hi

congrats again on the gold-you deserve it

She did not sit next to him in class on Monday.

(You know I don't deserve it.)

She did not make eye contact with him all week.

hi what are u doing rn

She did not talk to him after school.

(Not replying to you, that's for sure.)

She did not mention him to her friends.

hi polka dots

She shoved her gold medal-significantly less shiny and pretty than it had been on that stage-deep into her sock drawer, unwilling to put that dirty thing next to all the sports trophies and medals she had actually deserved.

hi are you busy?

And after two weeks of that, he finally seemed to get the message and left her alone.

(No, I'm not busy.)

That only made things worse, of course.

(Just sad.)

"I'm not accusing you of anything, of course, but I'm sure it led to some talk, you getting a spot on the team that some people might feel like you don't deserve."

Mikan spent two weeks now scanning the Acadec classroom, eyeing her classmates for some hint that they knew she hadn't deserved her position, some resentment among the kids on the B Team, or a knowing look from Mochu or Ruka-pyon.

They were either entirely ignorant to the foul moves that had placed her on the competition team, or they were all very good actors.

It all just made her feel dirtier.

The worst part was glancing at the team-members who hadn't been a part of A Team, specifically the Varsities who'd had their spot stolen by her worst enemy who couldn't stand to be apart from her.

It's not like Mikan couldn't tell that he probably thought he'd done her a favor. If she'd found out about this months ago, or right when it happened, she might have assumed it was out of malice or done just to make fun of her. But she knew better now. She knew he wanted to dance with her when they were thirteen. He'd kissed her just often enough where it felt familiar but not often enough for it to have become a habit. He thought-most likely-that he was doing her a favor.

But kind or not, his message to Narumi meant one thing and one thing only: Natsume didn't think she was good enough to get on the team on her own.

And she probably wasn't. She'd been struggling to keep her scores up all year, and she'd gotten a medal after far more exerted effort than anybody else would have had to put in. Mikan wasn't a genius like Hotaru or Natsume; she didn't have the work ethic of Sumire or Ruka; she didn't have the teaching skills of Tsubasa or Iinchou. She was just her stupid self, making unrealistic goals and falling short of them everytime.

He'd probably thought he was being kind, but it was the worst thing he'd ever done to her.

Everything else-every other taunt or tease-had implied she was worth bickering with, that she could snap something back that would sting him too, or that she'd slap his arm in retribution. But this-this favor of his-this made it clear he'd never seen her as his equal.

And so she didn't want to see the medal she got from Prefecture and she didn't want to see him.

But she had to, of course. The medal could be hidden, but Natsume went to her school and was in the same class.

After the last competition, Acadec class settled down. Instead of being pressured into fervent studying, they had been permitted to have fun. Acadec was now a party potluck class every day: games, snacks, conversation, and fun.

Mikan tried to stick to Hotaru and Iinchou and put on as much of a front as she could, smiling wide and joking with everyone else so nobody could tell how miserable she really was. So she did her utmost to avoid playing any board games with Natsume, changing groups effortlessly if he somehow infiltrated a game for a spell. She kept clear of his seat, keeping track of him from the corner of her eye and always sitting on the opposite side of the room from him.

This was her new normal: pretending Natsume didn't exist while being constantly aware of his presence at all times.

On Monday, he was playing Apples-to-Apples with Koko, Mochu, Permy, and Ruka. On Tuesday, he played Uno with Tsubasa, Ruka, and the Varsities from B Team. On Wednesday, he just chatted with Ruka the whole period, sitting on their desks. On Thursday, he played cards with most of the previous A Team with the exception of Mikan. On Friday, he was playing Risk with Mochu, Tsubasa, Kaoru, and Ruka.

Or he was supposed to be.

One moment, Mikan had glimpsed him moving his red troops over the complicated board at a table comfortably far away. She looked down at her hand of Uno cards, looked up, and was astonished to see that he was sitting right beside her on his knees, his eyes burning.

She wanted to seem cool and collected, but he'd startled her, so she gasped and flinched away from him.

"You have bad cards," he whispered.

Mikan pressed her cards to her chest so he couldn't see them anymore, her gaze stubbornly on the table.

Koko, Sumire, Hotaru, Hoshino, and Iinchou were at the table with her, and didn't seem to notice the new arrival. Koko slapped down a reverse card and Sumire groaned for the tenth time in the last five rounds.

Natsume hadn't spoken to her in about a week. Or it would be more accurate to say he hadn't attempted to reach out in a week. Really, they hadn't spoken since the competition, but he had seemingly got the message since then. So why was he here?

But she didn't ask him that. She just set down a card when it was her turn and let the game continue, Natsume resting his chin on his forearms on her desk, never taking his eyes off her or her cards.

"Do you want help?" he asked quietly.

Unable to control herself anymore, she whipped her head to him and snapped, "No! I don't need your help!"

Natsume just blinked. "Okay." He didn't look particularly hurt, but then again, he hadn't at the eighth grade dance either. He didn't need to cry for her to know she'd been harsh. But she didn't take it back. Just because he didn't want to hear it didn't mean she shouldn't have said it.

He left, retreating back to his game of Risk, and Mikan returned her focus to her own game, glaring at her cards. He had been right, of course. Her cards were terrible. But Uno was a game of luck most of the time anyway, so it's not like he could've made a difference in helping her, really.

She glanced up, wondering why the game had paused, only to see everyone's eyes on her, boring into her.

"What?" she asked, her voice back to normal, cheerful like usual.

"Nothing," Iinchou said softly. The rest seemed to agree, averting their gazes and returning to the game. Hotaru was the only one who hadn't been looking at her, but that's because she was eyeing the Risk table. Sumire's gaze lingered on Mikan the longest, and it seemed to be with overwhelming heaviness that she finally looked back at her cards.

Koko flicked a "Draw 4" card onto the table with panache, grinning widely at Sumire, who didn't groan this time. She just took the cards without complaint and the game continued.

Mikan was intending on walking home by herself as she hadn't had the chance to for the past two weeks. Hotaru and Iinchou usually joined her, and she hadn't been able to come up with a good excuse for why she didn't want to. Today was special, since both her best friends were being called for some Honor Roll thing after school, and since Mikan definitely didn't qualify for that, she'd have the chance to walk entirely on her own.

She was heading out, eager for once. She would fume, maybe rant a little herself, possibly cry, but most unfortunately she'd likely end up wishing she could reply to Natsume's texts. It had been so hard to find alone time these days. Her room was stamped with a couple of Natsume's drawings that she couldn't bear to take down because she still loved them, but it was otherwise the only place where she could be on her own lately. At school, on walks, around the home, always, there was someone there, clinging to her, expecting a smile and cheerful disposition.

For once she let herself drop all pretenses and moped.

For a solid thirty seconds.

Then she was accosted by someone calling out for her.

She spun around with a grin on her face to greet Sumire, who was chasing after her with a somber look on her face, one that hadn't gone away since Natsume crashed their Uno game. "Hi, Permy!"

Permy caught up to her and furrowed her eyebrows, maintaining her elegance despite the annoyance on her features. "Drop it, okay?"

Now it was Mikan's turn to be annoyed. "Drop what?"

"The happy act. You've been miserable for weeks. And don't act like it's crazy I caught on-" She pointed her finger into Mikan's face. "We've all noticed. I'm just sick of pretending like everything's okay. Aren't you?" When Mikan didn't answer, she just huffed. "Just tell me what's up."

Mikan shrugged. "Nothing's up. I'm fine."

"You aren't talking to Natsume anymore. What's up with that?"

"It's not like he and I are best friends or anything," Mikan mumbled bitterly. "Is it really that big of a shock that we're not attached at the hip? I mean, we've always hated each other-"

"No," Permy cut in irritably. "Not this crap again. Didn't I tell you ages ago that he doesn't hate you? And last time I checked, you were thirsting after him and smooching him after our meets-"

"I was not-"

"You finally accepted that you liked him back, and it really seemed like you two were finally getting somewhere! I mean, I was there! I saw you two at Prefecture. You were so cute, basically acting like a couple already! So what the heck happened? What could he have possibly done to make you turn a 180 this way?"

"We were never gonna be a couple," Mikan said, but she didn't believe that. To be honest, she'd kinda wanted to see if things could continue between them, turn into something new. Even more than that: she'd been hoping they'd be something. She'd never wanted to say it out loud or admit it to herself, but she'd caught herself daydreaming about going on a date with him, having him confess some secret passion for her that he'd been harboring for years, or about (and this was the worst one) even marrying him and telling their future children about their crazy love story. But that was just typical teen fantasy that wasn't worth examining. Whatever she might have hoped for weeks ago was past tense. It wasn't going to happen.

"Yes, you were," Sumire snapped. "You were gonna be an item and I had been preparing myself for how annoying you two were gonna be-just to see things turn back to normal. But today I realized something: whatever it is that changed between you two, Natsume doesn't know about it either."

"How do you know?" Mikan retorted, feeling childish.

"Because he asked me if I knew."

Mikan slumped, all fight and stubbornness draining out of her. She surrendered and turned back to continue on her solitary walk.

"Sakura! Come on!" Permy kept up with her stride effortlessly. "Don't you think that whatever it is that happened, it could be fixed with a conversation? If he doesn't even know-"

"I don't want to talk to him about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm…"

"You're clearly mad, and I'm sure you have your reasons, but if you just gave him a chance to explain-"

"I'm embarrassed!" Mikan blurted out. "I'm embarrassed, okay? I feel humiliated!"

Permy's face softened. "What happened? I won't judge, Sakura. I'm your friend. I'm on your side."

It only took those words for Mikan to crumble, and suddenly she broke down in sobs. Throughout the hiccups and tears, she sputtered, "He wrote in his personal statement that he didn't wanna be on any team that I wasn't on."

Permy hesitated for a moment. "What a moron," she muttered. "Honestly! Why would he say that?"

Mikan's stomach burned. She was conflicted between gratitude that Permy agreed that Natsume had messed up and indignation that Permy was calling him a moron. "He probably meant well," she said, trying to keep her voice neutral so she didn't sound like she was defending him.

"It doesn't matter, Sakura," Permy said. "You're allowed to be upset about that. I get why you needed some time. You don't have to force yourself. You talk to him when you're ready."

Mikan nodded, but she couldn't help but feel like that wasn't the advice she'd wanted to receive.

"How did you find out?"

"Narumi-sensei told me. He thought we'd done our statements together."

"Naru is an idiot." Permy gently nudged her so they could continue walking. Mikan's tears were quickly drying. Saying all this out loud had made her feel silly. "I do think you should tell him why you're upset with him, but you don't have to forgive him."

"What, so you can make your move?" She'd only meant it as a joke, but it came out too sarcastic.

"Sakura, I have been on your side from the beginning. Have I not been rooting for you two? Do you really think I'd try to sabotage your happiness?"

"I'm sorry-I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay," Permy said. "I forgive you. Just stop being insecure. Natsume-kun and I are friends, sure, but we never hang out one-on-one. It's almost always in a group. And I know he doesn't like me like that. I shouldn't have to explain why I'm so sure of that."

Mikan kept her eyes downcast, ashamed at that pathetic excuse for a joke. "I know. I'm so sorry, Permy."

"It's okay, I said. You're allowed to talk about your feelings though, you know. It's not like you're that great at hiding them, so you might as well be honest and tell your friends when you're upset. You never know-they might actually be able to help."

Sumire walked her home after that. The rest of their conversation was about the end-of-the-year events, especially in Acadec, what the next theme might be, and some idle gossip about their friends. Natsume didn't come up again.

But after Mikan got home, after dinner, after she'd wrapped up her homework, she found herself sitting on her bed and staring at his beautiful drawing of a sakura tree.

It really wasn't about whether or not Mikan had given up on them being a couple. Deep down, she knew it was still something she wanted. She wished she could talk to him, pretend like she'd never found out about his personal statement, kiss him. But she felt like maybe she'd been viewing their relationship all wrong. This was a new perspective on everything, one where she was nowhere near Natsume's level, one where she'd never had a chance of getting one over on him to begin with. It left her with a sour taste in her mouth.

She sighed as she observed his drawing. He was still her favorite artist, though.

The way Sumire described the situation, Mikan was almost tricked into thinking that life would sit back and wait for her to process everything and be ready, and maybe it had, but after a few weeks of silence, it seemed that Natsume was not as patient.

It was almost the end of April, and the Acadec class was preparing for the school year's conclusion. While the top-scoring teams at Prefecture were now competing for Nationals, the Alice High School Acadec class was at the home front, arranging for class awards.

It was Narumi's idea of uniting the class and rewarding each person's contribution to their respective teams. Each person was due their own award, where their values were highlighted, in addition to a few VIP awards of various types.

Last year, Mikan had been given a "Sunshine Award" for always being upbeat and positive, with her optimism inspiring everyone in class. She wouldn't mind a similar reward this year, but she doubted she deserved even that much.

It started with "heads down, hands up" voting for various awards, like the MVP Award, the Team Mom Award, the Class Clown Award, and the Best Tutor Award, but after that the class would vote on each person's individual award.

For each individual award, the decathlete was asked to leave the room and mind their own business in the hall for a few minutes while the class decided their award until they were called back in by the next decathlete on the list.

They discussed everyone in class in alphabetical order for efficiency's sake. The decathlete would leave and the rest of the class would brainstorm about what exactly made the person unique and special, based on what they contributed to the class. Tsubasa was supportive and encouraging, Hotaru was tough but brilliant, and Hoshino was sweet despite his shyness. Everyone, Narumi argued, had contributed something priceless to the success of the class, and that ought to be appreciated.

But when Mikan was asked to step out, and the door closed behind her leaving her alone in the cool hall, she couldn't help but feel like they were all scratching their heads in confusion about what exactly Mikan had chipped in with her presence.

It didn't help that she didn't have her phone and couldn't track how long she'd been outside. The minutes seemed to drag on for ages, as if proving to her that she was impossible to appreciate, that she really hadn't given the class much of anything except for a Mikan-shaped burden to carry.

The Burden Award. The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back Award. The Least Valuable Player Award.

But she was able to come up with those pretty quickly. It must be a tight vote.

When Permy came out to call her in, she looked cheerful enough, so Mikan was able to hope that maybe the award wasn't so bad.

The rest of the awards were all positive affairs, giving each student a time to shine, which was nice to see, but eventually the day did end, and Mikan was once again facing the trouble of walking home and not moping the whole time.

Except that Natsume wasn't so eager to see that happen. The bell rang, and before Mikan could finish packing up her things, he was by her desk, looking down at her with a blank expression.

Mikan turned furiously to Hotaru and Iinchou, who paused by the door. "Wait for me, guys," she said.

"See you later," Natsume said instead. "You guys go on ahead. I'll walk Polka Dots home."

Hotaru shrugged and started to go, and Iinchou waved nervously before following her.

Betrayal, of the worst kind. She'd been abandoned-left for dead-by the people she'd trusted the most.

"Come on, hurry up."

At his prodding, Mikan simmered, shoving the last of her loose papers into her bag and then standing up in a rush. If she moved fast, maybe she could lose him? But no luck on that end, he kept up with her effortlessly.

She could feel his gaze on her, no matter how intently she tried to ignore him, as they walked.

They had reached the school gates when he finally spoke. "You're ignoring me again."

"Yes."

"I don't get why," he said. "It's not like I haven't been talking to you-Or I've been trying at least. I thought we had a deal."

Mikan kept her head down. This wasn't fair. Sumire told her she wouldn't have to talk about this until she was ready and she didn't really feel ready. She didn't think she'd ever feel ready, honestly. Her face started to heat up in shame at the mere thought of explaining why she was upset. "It's your own fault."

"Well, I'd love to apologize, if only I knew what I was saying sorry for."

Mikan stopped her stride, and Natsume did too. She took a deep breath and then, as she exhaled, she spoke. "You're the only reason I got on A Team."

"Huh?"

"When I got on the team, at first, I did feel indebted to you, you know. I thanked you, do you remember? Even though it was hard for me. But… I really had no idea how big a role you played in getting me on the team. If it weren't for you, I never would have stood a chance, would I?"

"Can you elaborate? I'm lost."

"Your personal statement!" she hissed. "Narumi-sensei told me about it! You refused to be on any team that I wasn't on, so he had no choice but to put me on A Team if he wanted to keep you!"

Natsume was silent for a minute, and Mikan had never liked that, so she finally looked at him, only for a jab to pierce her heart at the sight of him.

His expression wasn't blank; he, in fact, looked devastated, his face contorted into the clear image of holding back emotion.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Mikan asked. "Permy said I should let you explain yourself."

"Explain what?" he said, his voice hollow. "I did turn in that personal statement. But I wasn't trying to blackmail anybody into letting you on the team, you know-"

"I know you probably thought you were doing me a favor! But that doesn't change the fact that you didn't believe I could get on A Team on my own! You wrote that because you knew I'd need all the help I could get."

"No, I just wanted to be put wherever you were, not the other way around-"

"So you did doubt I'd make A Team!"

"That's not what I said-"

"You know, Natsume, I really thought for a second that things could be alright between us, but you never thought of me as being on your level!"

"That's not-"

"-I know this was your way of being helpful, but that just makes it worse-"

"Polka Dots-"

"-I have been so insecure about my place on the team, you knew that, and you writing that statement-that the only reason I got on the team to begin with is because you wrote that-"

"Shut up!" he snapped.

Mikan glowered at him. "Excuse me?"

"You said you'd let me explain, and you're not."

"I don't like your explanations! I don't think you get why what you did was so terrible. You messed up, and I'm allowed to be upset about this, and Permy said I didn't have to forgive you."

"You don't have to forgive me," Natsume agreed. "You don't have to like me, or talk to me, or even hear me out. But I'll say this: you're insecure, you project, and that's not my fault. I'm sorry that my personal statement hurt your feelings, and I would take it back if I could. But if you think the only reason you got on the team is because I wrote one sentence, then you're stupider than I thought. Goodbye."

He turned on his heel and proceeded to walk in the opposite direction. He was so angry he might as well have had steam coming from his ears.

Her face reddened further into shame, and then she followed suit, turning around and walking the rest of the way home.

She slammed the door when she stepped into her house, ignoring Jii-chan's scoldings. She stomped up the stairs and then slammed her bedroom door too, just for good measure. With all the fury she could muster, she tore Natsume's sakura tree toilet drawing off the wall and then threw it to the floor.

It only sat there for a few seconds before she reached down to pick it up and tape it back to her wall. She sniffled miserably and then fell backwards onto her bed. He didn't get it. He'd messed up a lot and she had every right to be angry. Permy said so. She probably wasn't angry enough. Calling her insecure when she was talking about-

Well… she'd actually called herself insecure first. But still, bringing it up again didn't really fix anything!

Then he'd made her walk home alone! First dismissing her best friends and then only walking with her for all of fifteen minutes before storming off! Not gentlemanly at all.

Against her will, Mikan thought back on the times he had been a gentleman, walking her home or comforting her when nobody else even noticed she was upset. She remembered his pretty smile, on the rare occasion he decided to give her a real one, or the way he smelled, like Axe bodyspray, like he couldn't be bothered to find a better fragrance. She couldn't believe she had actually started to like the smell. She looked back at the sakura tree drawing, then the one of the pig…

She'd probably never get a drawing from him again.

She sniffled.

Her door flew open and Jii-chan stood, enraged, in her doorway. "Mikan! I don't care how bad a day you've had! You don't get to throw tantrums and not even greet your family when you come home! I know I raised you to have better manners than that!"

"I'm having a really bad day, Jii-chan!"

"There's no day bad enough to justify treating your family poorly, Mikan!"

Mikan just groaned and fell back against the bed.

"I hope you feel better, but you're not eating dinner until you apologize to your family and ask us how our days were!" With that, Jii-chan closed the door, pointedly not slamming it.

"I'm not even hungry," Mikan mumbled into her pillow.

But half an hour later, Mikan had apologized to her family and asked them how their days were, and received a full plate in return.

"How was your day?" her mom asked cheerfully.

Mikan shrugged, though a fake smile was still playing at her mouth.

"You haven't been taking your phone to the table anymore lately," Yuka said absently. "Have you heard from Natsume-kun lately?"

"We're not friends or anything," Mikan said, poking her meal with her fork.

"I just thought you were starting to like him…"

"We don't have to talk about boys at the dinner table," Izumi said impatiently, slurping a noodle. "I still think Mikan's too young to date anyway."

The conversation fizzled out after that, drifting to the topic of Jii-chan's garden or the leaking faucet in the bathroom. Only when dinner was over and Mikan was helping her mother clear the table did the conversation about Natsume proceed.

"Mikan," her mother said softly. "You've never been particularly interested in… I don't know… girly things like romance and make-up before, so I get the feeling that you don't know how to talk about them. But you can talk to me. I have some experience, so maybe I can help. But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

Mikan was tired of losing her temper and breaking down about this. Her emotions had been so up and down for the past few weeks-or months, really, if she was being honest-that she'd practically exhausted all feeling for at least another century. So she grinned at her mom. "Liking boys is overrated. I'm giving up on that."

Yuka hummed bemusedly, loading the dishwasher. "What did he do this time?"

"He thought he was being helpful, but he was being hurtful. Then, when I told him about how he hurt my feelings, he called me insecure and said I wasn't hearing him out. Isn't that messed up?"

"Did you hear him out?"

"Why are you taking his side?" Mikan asked, her grin wiped away.

"I'm not. I just want the whole picture."

"I mean-" If Mikan looked back on that conversation, she didn't really remember him talking a whole lot at all, at least not til the end, when he accused her of projecting. "What kind of excuse could he possibly have anyway?"

"Do you want to fix things?"

"There's nothing to fix!" Mikan said exasperatedly, putting the salt back in its rightful place in the kitchen. "We're just back to how we were before. No big deal."

"Mikan, do you mind if I say something?"

"Fine."

"I think you really like this boy," Yuka said gently, shutting the machine and looking Mikan right in the eyes. "You've been obsessed with him since you were in kindergarten-"

"I hated him since kindergarten. There's a difference."

"But you don't hate him anymore, do you?"

"I do now."

"I don't think so, Mikan. I think, if you hated him, really, then you wouldn't be so hurt about whatever he did. I think, once you started liking him, all that energy you used to spend on hating him had to be used for liking him, and now that energy is confused."

"I never said I like him, anyway," Mikan grumbled. "Thanks for the advice, Mom."

"I didn't give you the advice yet!" Mikan stopped in her tracks, as she'd been about to walk back upstairs. "If you want to fix things, you're going to have to listen to his explanation. It might take work, but if you can forgive him, your relationship-whatever kind that might be-will be stronger for it. You don't have to, but ask yourself what it is you really want from him. Maybe you'll surprise yourself."

"I already know what I want from him, though," Mikan said, turning back around. Though, as she went up the stairs, the answer that should have been clear as day was instead foggy and elusive.

When Mikan was in the fifth grade, there'd been a field trip to a natural history museum. Though Mikan hadn't really been all that excited at first because museums sounded kinda boring, her interest piqued when Iinchou mentioned animal exhibits and a show about fossils from a jillion years ago. The day they'd been handed their permission slips, she'd had her parents sign it.

She eagerly awaited the field trip: sitting next to her best friends on the bus, driving into the city, looking at fascinating exhibits, eating delicious lunches, learning new things, and becoming the smartest girl in class. She couldn't decide what she was most excited about, really.

When the day finally rolled around, Mikan had been inseparable from her permission slip. She'd gripped it tight, so as not to lose it, in addition to the extra money for entry fee and lunch. The kids in her grade lined up to turn in their slips and Mikan joined them, so giddy she could hardly breathe.

In one moment, everything came crashing down when she heard Natsume's voice say lowly to Ruka, "No, I forgot it at home."

Ruka made a face, said something about forging the signature and sharing his allowance from his mom, but Natsume just shook his head.

"I honestly don't even care. It's just a stupid museum. I could look up all that stuff on Google at home and have way more fun. By the end of the trip, you'll probably be jealous of me."

Mikan thought he was clearly lying. This museum was one of the most fun events of the year. Everyone had been raving about it for weeks. It definitely wasn't whatever to not be able to go. Mikan pouted. If she had forgotten her permission slip, she'd be devastated.

Ruka seemed to think so too, because he spent another couple minutes trying to convince Natsume, to no avail. With slumped shoulders and a sad expression, Ruka moved into the line, leaving his best friend to sit against the wall.

By the looks of it, Natsume was going to be the only person in their whole grade who wouldn't be going on the field trip.

Good, Mikan thought. He would just make the trip annoying if he came. It'll be way more fun without him there.

But even though she certainly did believe that, another part of her kept imagining him by himself in an empty classroom, doing busywork all day by himself while his classmates had fun. And then-Mikan could hardly bear the horror-he'd have to hear all about the museum he missed for days after, priceless memories he'd never have because he couldn't come. Mikan would hate it if that was her fate, destined to suffer for the rest of her life because she'd forgotten to get her slip signed.

But Natsume said he didn't care, right? It didn't make a difference to him, right? It wasn't her business anyway.

She was moving up in line steadily, and her hand was starting to sweat where it was gripping her permission slip.

But even the coolest, toughest, most "whatever" kid in the world would feel left out being the only one in the grade not to go on a field trip with all his friends…

With a sad sigh, Mikan buried her permission slip deep into her backpack, just in time; she was next in line.

"Hello, Mikan-chan," her teacher said jovially. "Let me see your permission slip."

Mikan made a face of confusion, patting at her pockets, then pretended to scavenge through her backpack in a frenzy. Making her most convincing face of disappointment (which wasn't so hard because she was disappointed), Mikan stammered out, "I d-don't think I… I forgot it at home, I think-"

Her teacher smiled sadly. "Oh, Mikan-chan, I'm so sorry, but if you don't have the slip, I can't let you go on the trip."

Mikan let her shoulders droop and looked morosely to the floor. "Let me look for it some more," she said, knowing fully well she wouldn't be. Sitting a little ways away from Natsume, she pretended to dig through her bag, but really all she was doing was mixing up the few items in the big pocket.

A substitute teacher called for all the kids staying behind (so… two) to gather in a classroom to watch movies and cry all day. Mikan trailed behind sadly, waving a tearful farewell to her friends, who watched her in confusion, since they knew she'd had her slip signed as soon as she got it.

Natsume was sitting in the back already, taking out paper and pencil right away. Mikan collected herself and resolutely sat in the seat in front of him, huffing irritably.

Natsume was-predictably-unhappy to see her, maybe as unhappy as she was to miss out on the museum for him. But because she had stayed behind for him, she made sure to involve him in the limited fun they had access to in that tiny little classroom. She tried to imagine he was a friend, in the hopes that watching the movie could be a good time.

She barely registered at the time that he seemed to be doodling during the entire runtime of the movie, since she was more focused on reacting to the events of the film with as much fervor as possible.

Then lunch came and when she grabbed her bag to find her money, it fell over, with all the contents spilling out, including her signed and very clearly present permission slip.

She knew Natsume saw it, even though she'd grabbed it and put it away as quickly as she could manage. She didn't want to explain why she'd stayed behind or why she'd lied about having her permission slip or why she sacrificed a fun day at the museum with her friends to spend the day instead with her worst enemy.

Luckily, he didn't ask.

The day ended, the kids came back, and all Mikan heard about for weeks was how much fun the field trip had been. A horrible feeling of missing out took over her for that time, but eventually the excitable chatter died out, the memories faded, and her classmates moved on. Somehow, despite all the resentment she'd had towards Natsume for all the things he'd done to her over the years, and despite how much she expected to resent him for this particular incident, she never actually managed to hate him for this. She never could find it in herself to regret staying behind for one day, sacrificing the fun of gorgeous natural exhibits and laughter with friends.

She'd wasted the day pretending to engage in conversation with the person she hated the most on the planet, and even though it was no field trip, she couldn't deny that it had still been a nice way to spend her day.

Nationals ended and the Alice Acadec class feigned interest in the winning team, which hadn't even been from their prefecture. Some hotshot, fancy school with much better funding and overly serious students was bound to win over teensy little Alice High School but that didn't stop most of A Team from glowering at the pictures of the winning team anyway.

A week after that contest wrapped up, when the weather was heating up and flowers were starting to bloom, the topic for the next Acadec season was announced, and Narumi-sensei strutted into class that day, decked out in bright orange and pink, announcing that the next theme would be India.

"We already have our novel assigned, so anyone interested in continuing Acadec next year might want to get a copy in advance-" Mikan didn't miss Ruka jotting the title down excitedly. "-but what I'm most excited for is the Music curriculum. I can hardly wait to find out what the selections will be…"

Before he'd even finished speaking, Hotaru was already looking up Indian History 101 on her phone, and Iinchou was already positing what the Social Science curriculum would touch on, since Indian history was so vast.

Mikan pretended to be excited with everyone else, but despite how fascinating India seemed, and how exciting the next year would be, she couldn't help but feel like she probably wasn't going to be sticking around in this class.

She had gotten onto the A Team-despite what he said about it-because Natsume had mentioned her in his personal statement. He was definitely not going to do that again, which meant she didn't stand a chance. She wouldn't be able to bear it, going to those study meets knowing full well she would never be able to perform as well as everyone else.

While everyone else was avidly getting a headstart on India research, Mikan was contemplating alternative electives.

She didn't want to take anything artsy, because it would just remind her of Natsume. There was no point taking anything musical, since she clearly had no talent for it. Maybe she could get back on the soccer or track team? But that thought saddened her considerably. She'd always been so lonely on those teams. She'd been a good player, but her exuberant personality was considered by most "annoying," and the other girls on the teams had made it a point not to invite her for after-game dinners.

The only place she'd felt truly at home was here, in Acadec, where everyone was a weirdo and her personality warranted a Sunshine Award. Mikan glanced around the classroom at her friends, all eagerly exploring their next year's studies. Maybe this just wasn't for her.

But a clawing thought begged to be heard, and it sounded an awful lot like Natsume, asking her why she was so sure she didn't deserve to be on the A Team.

It was with heavy dread that she approached Kaoru, who was joking around with Kusami over their notebooks.

"Can I talk to you?"

Kaoru smiled warmly, but when she gestured with her head to step aside with her, his expression fell. Kusami teased, "Ooooooooh," but Kaoru waved him off.

He nodded indulgently at Mikan, standing up and following her off to stand by the wall, where they could have a moment of privacy. "Sakura, I'm in a relationship already."

"What? That's not-I'm not asking you out."

"Oh… then what's up?" he asked, friendly enough.

Approaching this was delicate, but Mikan didn't know the best way to do it. She decided to abandon all self-preservation and instead bowed low. "I'm so sorry!"

"W-what?"

"You deserved my spot on the team-you got better scores than me, and I stole your spot and even though I didn't mean to, it still wasn't fair! Just know I didn't blackmail anyone or use any dirty methods to get on the team, and whatever Natsume did had nothing to do with me at all-Please believe me!"

"Sakura-Sakura, hold on!" Kaoru hesitantly held onto her forearms. He took a deep breath. "You didn't steal my spot, and neither did Natsume-kun."

Mikan sniffled, tears dribbling down her cheeks. "I didn't?"

"I didn't want to be on A Team!" He shrugged nervously. "I saw how good my scores were and I realized I should probably be focusing on school and not on this one class. I've been neglecting my normal coursework for so long, but being in Acadec made me see that I could actually succeed if I put my mind to it. I also have debate team and that takes up most of my team. It would be between those two and I chose debate. Just having Academic Decathlon on my transcript, even without being on a team, is like university catnip so… I felt like that was enough. I'm really sorry."

Why was he sorry?

"You don't have to worry about it, okay? You deserved your spot. You were willing and able to put more energy into A Team than I would've, so you shouldn't second guess that. Plus, I heard you got a gold at the competition. Natsume-kun told me all about it. Congrats!" He patted her shoulder reassuringly, his hand warm, and then he walked back to Kusami, who was eyeing him excitedly.

"Did she ask you to the dance?" she heard him taunt, but she was too distracted by this conversation to give his comment much thought.

Mikan should've been reassured, but now she just felt worse. Kaoru could have gotten on the team, maybe, except that he didn't want to be on the team. She hadn't beaten him-he'd bowed out. It wasn't a victory if the opponent hadn't even competed.

With a heavy heart, Mikan returned to her desk, underlining the word soccer in her notes.

It only took another week after that for the curriculum to come in, earlier than expected, and then Acadec switched gears from being about games and fun to preparing for the next season. Narumi had them all march down to the teachers' lounge, where he used the massive printer to make copies of the huge curricula for everyone, regardless of whether or not they'd be continuing on next year. That being said, Mikan hadn't mentioned to anybody yet that she was going to drop Acadec and join soccer instead.

Mikan tried not to feel any connection to the Art curriculum when they returned to the classroom and started flipping through the pages, still hot off the press. Everyone else around her would be a better decathlete, would end up knowing more about Art than her. Her tenure here was over. At least she got a medal out of it.

She felt nothing but guilt when, the next day, Narumi announced that they would be announcing individual and class awards before their class end-of-the-year banquet, and that the Nishi class would be invited too. The rest of the class buzzed with excitement, but Mikan just felt like she'd be intruding on a good time she didn't deserve to be a part of.

A vote was held and Mikan voted for the most popular restaurant option-an Indian restaurant to celebrate the new theme-so as not to rock the boat.

These days she was pretty miserable. Leaving Acadec would be worse and better. For one, she could forget all about her unworthiness. She knew for a fact she could get on the soccer team. She knew she was good at it, that her athletic prowess had won her medals and trophies. Acadec was different, since it was so confusing and mysterious, but if there was one thing she knew for sure: she was bad at it.

It was a cherry on top that leaving Acadec would mean seeing Natsume less often. After their hostile chat after school that day, he'd left her alone. He didn't look over at her anymore, didn't text, didn't accost her in the middle of Uno games to insult her cards or in the bathroom to kiss her. She was supposed to be angry with him, but she found that whatever she felt for Natsume, it didn't really look very much like anger. Meanwhile, he was clearly furious with her. He wasn't going to be joining any elective she chose. Maybe she might have considered something happening between them someday, but that was before all this. Now it was an apparent impossibility, about as likely to happen as Mikan getting one of the class awards in addition to her individual award.

Mikan was doodling ugly black cats in her curriculum when Narumi's voice shifted. "And, since we've wrapped up all the details on the end-of-the-year dinner, I think I want to hand the metaphorical mic over to our beloved Koko, who has a message of his own to share." With an inviting gesture, Narumi stepped aside, letting his student leap up to the front of the classroom with a wide grin.

"Hello everyone!" he started, waving enthusiastically. "So as you may know, I was a Varsity on the A Team this year. I had a great time and we all had so much fun and learned so much, but there was just one teensy problem I had with the way the team was run. This problem-I think-was so pervasive that it cut into the quality of our study-time and impacted our bonding. In order to combat this scourge, I've decided to form a rebellious faction, and I invite you all to join!"

"What are you talking about?" Hotaru asked, clearly peeved. "I don't know if you have the right to complain about the way things were handled, since you all unanimously voted for me and Iinchou to be co-captain and captain-"

"Uh uh!" Koko interrupted sharply, holding up his finger. "Your platform never mentioned this particular policy! It was sprung up on us suddenly, after you'd already been elected. Thus, my faction is incredibly important!" Mikan noticed that Narumi was smiling excitedly, clapping his hands together a bit in anticipation. "My faction fights against the no-dating policy on the A Team, which I found to be oppressive and unjust! I invite all the rest of you to take arms with me against this tyranny, and our first course of action will be thus:

"Permy, will you go to the dance with me?"

Narumi giggled enthusiastically, as if he'd been waiting for this moment, while the rest of the class gasped. Permy's eyes had widened to the size of tennis balls and for once in her life she was not glaring daggers in Koko's direction. Everyone turned their gaze from Koko to Permy, anxiously anticipating her answer.

"You're allowed to say no," Koko said. "I know you don't care about embarrassing me in front of everyone, and that's kinda what I like about you."

That did the trick: Permy immediately narrowed her eyes and she crossed her arms with annoyance. "Ugh, fine! But only because my prospects are pretty glum this year!"

Koko took this as a triumph, pumping his fist into the air with a "Whoop!"

But Mikan thought, despite Permy's glowering face, that she didn't do a good job hiding her blush.

She didn't know why she did it, but while the rest of the class applauded and cheered for Koko and Permy's chaotic dance proposal, Mikan turned to Natsume. It just so happened he'd been looking at her too. In only a millisecond, they'd both torn their gazes away, but that didn't change the sad sick feeling nestled in her gut.

It felt like betrayal, like disappointment, like frustration, and-just maybe-a little bit like heartbreak.

May came, and brought with it heat and blooming and sunshine. Mikan found small solace in the fact that she could wear shorts again, and traded in hot cocoa and tea for lemonade and iced lattes. That did little to comfort her since Natsume still wasn't looking at her, but it was a welcome distraction, if nothing else.

The day of the awards came, and Narumi dressed extravagantly for the occasion, dressed head-to-toe in shimmering gold and frills. The class, for their own part, dressed nicely for the dinner that would come after school, but none of them were as extremely decked out as their coach.

The class settled, and Narumi stepped to the front of the room, waving a hand dramatically in the air. "Good afternoon, decathletes! I hope you've all been doing well! Today, we'll be giving out some awards, and what better day to do this than on the day we meet with our Nishi competitors for a nice dinner in the spirit of camaraderie? Let's get started!"

He started with the class awards, since not everyone would get one. Hotaru was called up for the "MVP Award," "Team Mom" was awarded to Iinchou, and Natsume got "Best Rookie" since he performed so spectacularly in his first year.

"And for 'Best Improved,'" Narumi continued after Natsume sat down. "We acknowledge and appreciate the decathlete who, despite all odds, put their all into transforming, whose scores changed the most over the course of this last year, and who never gave up no matter what. And that person, according to this class, is Sakura Mikan!"

Mikan's mouth became dry immediately. She wanted to be flattered, to blush at the attention, but she just felt horrified by yet another award she didn't deserve. The class erupted into applause and the blood leached from her cheeks. She kinda wanted to cry.

Instead, she trudged up to the front and collected the certificate Narumi was offering.

"Congratulations!" he said to her, and she wanted to race out the door. But she just smiled and then sat back down, pretending to enjoy the compliments and supportive praise from her neighbors before the next few awards were given out to people who stood out in class, on either team, for their enthusiasm, helpfulness, or scoring.

Then the quasi ceremony moved on to individual awards, in alphabetical order, except for the award name this time, with the "Air-Guitar Award" going to Tsubasa for his supportive nature and incomparable enthusiasm. Natsume, of course, got the "Black Cat Award" for his mysteriousness and cleverness, Hotaru got the "Invisible Hand Award" for holding the team up because of and despite her tough veneer, and Koko got the "Jolly Rancher Connoisseur Award" for his silliness.

Mikan had to do her utmost not to cry when she was awarded the "R. Mutt Award" for her "superior knowledge in all things Art and her hard work in keeping the class fun." She had thought, for some reason, that it would be challenging for her classmates to come up with something good to say about her presence in the class, but maybe that was just because she'd had trouble coming up with something positive she'd contributed. But they had. They'd come up with something personal to her, using her best subject and acknowledging something Mikan hadn't really put much stock into.

She sat back down after taking her certificate, unable to keep Natsume's voice out of her mind: "But if you think the only reason you got on the team is because I wrote one sentence, then you're stupider than I thought."

The last individual award was given to Permy (the "Venus Flytrap Award" for her elegant appearance but no-nonsense personality, name suggested by Koko) and then class ended.

They didn't take a bus, since the restaurant ended up being rather close to the school, so they all walked the short way to their dinner reservation. Mikan couldn't help but put new stock into the warmth with which her classmates treated her, the way they smiled at her or talked to her.

Natsume paid her no mind, staying stuck to Ruka's side for the entire walk. She overheard smidges of their conversation, but it was limited to some video game Mikan didn't care about, so she decided to stop eavesdropping. Maybe he'd had a point when he'd scolded her. Maybe Mikan had indeed gotten the wrong idea about what she deserved.

The restaurant was very nice-very fancy-and the entire class was chattering about how rich they felt with their huge reservation in the back. The Nishi class was already there, and it took no thought or effort at all for the girls to pull into each other, sitting close and chatting in less than a minute. Mikan wanted to be pulled in too, but even though she sat between Nonoko and Hotaru and was firmly enmeshed in girl talk, she couldn't help but notice that Natsume was sitting all the way on the other end of the room, and trying to chat him up would be impossible.

On a totally different note, Luna was also sitting a ways away, distinctly separated from her classmates and instead sitting glued to her coach's side. He was probably the only person who really appreciated her presence on the team, so it made sense that he'd be the one she stuck by. As dinner started, she kept her conversation partners limited to the two teachers, never once turning to a classmate. She carefully averted her gaze whenever Mikan glanced at her, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't give her a jolt of pride to know that she'd been successful in finally standing up for herself at the Prefecture Competition. Hopefully, Luna would learn to stay away forever.

"So did anything new or exciting happen with you guys since we last saw each other?" Misaki asked after they'd all put in their orders. "Like on our end, our teammate Rui got a boyfriend."

"And Misaki agreed to go out on a date with Tsubasa on your team," Anna added, though Misaki elbowed her sharply for it.

Mikan gasped in shock that Tsubasa hadn't mentioned it.

"It happened today! I wasn't exactly bragging about it." Misaki's face turned blood red.

"Permy's dating Koko," Mikan offered, ignoring Permy's protests.

"Wow!" Wakako said excitedly, leaning across the table. "Romance is blooming all over! What about you, Imai-san? Any beaus?"

Hotaru shrugged. "Dating comes second to academic success. I'm sure it won't be difficult when I finally decide it's worth pursuing."

Mikan hoped that would be the end of the dating conversation, but that was apparently too much to hope for, because Wakako turned a hungry eye to her next. "And you, Sakura-san? Any news?" She said it pointedly, and Mikan didn't miss how her eyes darted in Natsume's direction when she said the word, "news."

"No," Mikan answered, doing her best not to sound bitter. "That ship has sailed."

The Nishi girls all seemed to deflate in disappointment.

"Aw, how come?" Nonoko asked.

Permy leaned in dangerously. "Because he insinuated she wasn't good enough to be on A Team on her own! He wrote in his personal statement to the coach before the teams were decided that he wanted her to be on the same team as him, like she really needed the help!"

Anna and Nobara gasped indignantly and Misaki shook her head disapprovingly.

Once again, Mikan felt the bizarre urge to defend the boy she was furious with. "He meant well," she said, but Permy waved her off.

"When they talk, maybe his explanation will clear things up, but for now-he's trash!"

"Like most men," Misaki said.

"Except for Tsubasa-senpai," Mikan defended.

"And our bio teacher," Anna and Nonoko said in unison.

"Or Iinchou," Hotaru pitched in.

"Or Ruka-kun," Permy finished, eyeing Hotaru meaningfully, but all Hotaru did in response was shrug.

The conversation changed and shifted after that, and in no time at all the girls were talking about school or TV or music or drama with Wakako's old friend from freshman year. Regardless, Mikan kept up with a bit of a headache and the haunting feeling that maybe it wasn't fair to call Natsume trash.

The dinner came and the topic of discussion moved determinedly to travel, but Mikan found herself far too often staring in Natsume's direction. He didn't once glance over at her. She chewed absently on her naan, forgetting entirely that she had ordered an entire meal.

Since they had the back room all to themselves, Koko decided he would be providing their party with after-dinner entertainment, pulling three rubber balls from his pocket and attempting to juggle them with no talent whatsoever. This somehow ended up being far more entertaining than real juggling would have been.

Dinner ended, everyone paid Narumi, who then paid the full tab to make the waiter's job easier, and then they were vacating the restaurant. Each decathlete had eaten their fair share of Indian food, so nobody was walking too fast. The Alice kids said their farewells to the Nishi kids and began to part ways.

"Good bye, Sakura-san," Luna said stiffly, before leaving with her classmates, and Mikan felt that previous flicker of pride settle.

Some Alice kids had their parents pick them up, some walked home. Hotaru was in the former camp, and Mikan would've been in the latter, if not for Hotaru offering her a ride.

But Hotaru did not call her mother right away like Mikan expected. Instead, she led Mikan down the street away from everyone else. At first, Mikan assumed they were stepping away for a bit of privacy to have a tense conversation, but then she realized they hadn't stopped, not even when their classmates became little dots on the horizon, melting into the dark.

Mikan didn't really want to be out in the middle of the night, but Hotaru didn't seem to care. They kept walking until Mikan blinked and realized they were-for some strange reason-back on campus.

"What are we doing here?" Mikan hissed. "Campus is closed! If we get caught, we'll get in serious trouble!"

"If you want a ride, you'll keep walking," Hotaru said curtly. "But if you want to walk forty-five minutes by yourself in the dark, then be my guest." With that, Mikan shut her trap and begrudgingly fell into line.

The school building was still open, since some kind of incoming freshman presentation was being held in the auditorium, and Mikan was relieved that at least one roadblock had been miraculously cleared. They kept walking until they paused in front of the Acadec classroom. Mikan gulped.

"What are we doing here, Hotaru?" she hissed. "We're not supposed to be here! It's not like we can get in anyway, since the door is lo-"

But Hotaru had pulled out a ring lined with keys and effortlessly selected the correct key to slide into the door's lock. The door swung open. "Come on."

Mikan glanced all around them, but found nobody in the vicinity. It almost seemed like it would be more dangerous to stay out in the hall than to follow Hotaru into the dark and abandoned classroom.

"What are we doing here, Hotaru?" Mikan asked for the thousandth time after shutting the door behind herself. "We shouldn't be here. How did you get Narumi-sensei's keys?"

"I stole them," Hotaru said from Narumi's desk. She bent down and started pulling open drawers and flipping through the paper files there. "And we're here for… aha… this." She removed a piece of scribbled-on lined paper from one of the thick manila folders.

"What's that?"

"Natsume-kun's personal statement."

Mikan flushed. "That's not our business, Hotaru! Put that away!"

"No," Hotaru said, sitting in Narumi's swivel chair and crossing her legs as if to demonstrate that she was staying put. "Don't think I haven't noticed how miserable you've been, sighing and moping and annoying me. You're going to read this. Out loud. And finally decide for yourself, with only facts in front of you, what you want to do. Personally, I hope you give up on him, but I haven't read this, so I have no way of knowing whether what he said was truly as bad as you seem to think."

"That's private, Hotaru."

"It was private," Hotaru corrected. "Then Naru broke that privacy by describing it to you, and you broke that privacy by breaking off your relationship with Natsume over it. And then you broke it even more by telling everybody about what he wrote, when you haven't even read it yourself."

"Natsume and I didn't have a relationship to break off," Mikan corrected, but it didn't ring true, even to her own ears.

"Then stop acting like you're going through a break-up. Read it."

Mikan sighed and grabbed the paper. "I read this and we get the heck out of here, okay?"

"You don't get to make demands of me," Hotaru said. "Now read."

Mikan huffed, but held the paper by the thin light of the moon coming in from the window.

Natsume's handwriting was plain and easy to read. Just as expected-his name in the corner, the title ("Personal Statement") centered over the top line.

"'I don't really care which team I'm on,'" she read aloud. "'I'm pretty good at Math and passable in every other subject. I can excel on whichever team you choose. But still, don't put me on a team if that team doesn't have Sakura Mikan on it too. If you do, I'll probably perform poorly because my inspiration will be gone. I joined because of Mikan, so if I don't get to compete with her, I won't bother.'" Mikan knew this part already, had been expecting it. What she didn't expect was that there was more still to his statement. "'I shouldn't have to tell you this, but Mikan is the most hard-working and determined person on this planet. I've never wanted to work hard before. You can tell from my scores, probably. I couldn't be bothered at the start, because I didn't care. But Mikan made me care. She makes everybody care. She's never satisfied and always looking to do better and better, and that passion is contagious. I think she should be on A Team-not because I want to be on that team, but because she deserves to be. If you want a successful A Team, she should be on it, because she makes this class fun, because she gets fired up, because she cares more than anybody else, because she wants to do well. If you give her the chance, she will. You asked which team I wanted to be on, and my answer is whichever one Mikan is on. I'm sure that's everyone else's answer. Screw you, Hyuuga Natsume.'"

Mikan did not lower the paper from her face.

"Well, there you have it," Hotaru said slowly. "You were wrong, after all. You weren't on A Team because Natsume-kun was; it was actually the other way around."

Mikan hiccupped.

"Mikan?"

Mikan hiccupped again.

Hotaru got off the swivel chair and forcibly lowered Natsume's personal statement, exposing Mikan's face to the light. She couldn't hide it: she was crying.

"I knew it," Hotaru whispered.

"Why did he write all this?" Mikan asked angrily, thrusting the paper at Hotaru. "Take it-I don't wanna look at it!"

"Are you still mad at him?"

"Yes!" Mikan spun around so she could wipe her face. "Madder, even!"

"Well, then you've lost me. Even I'm kinda moved by what he wrote. I mean… it was nice."

"Yeah, it was!" Mikan agreed, turning back around even though her face was becoming wetter by the second with new incoming tears flowing freely. "He had no business being that sweet!"

"What do you want, Mikan?" Hotaru snapped. "What's wrong with this?"

"He likes me!" Mikan yelled. "He likes me! He always liked me! And I didn't! I hated him for years while he thought about asking me to dance and wrote sappy stuff to teachers about me! It's not fair! I feel awful!"

"Why would you feel awful? It's not like he did anything to deserve your affection."

But Mikan didn't know if that was true anymore. She'd always thought their past interactions, on his part, were malicious bullying and evil taunting, the work of a boy who hated her.

"I hate you!"

"Always have."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"I don't hate you, Polka Dots."

But if she looked closer, Natsume's insistence that Mikan teach her about Art when he was himself a talented artist (the best artist, actually), wasn't malicious at all, but rather his own unique way of reaching out.

"Ruka mentioned you were in the class with him, and then maybe it was a little less difficult to convince him, that's all."

He joined because she was in the class. She'd previously thought it was with the desire to torment her, but what if it hadn't been?

No, there was no "what if" anymore. It hadn't been. Natsume had, for whatever reason, liked her the whole time, and she'd hated him. If he'd asked her to dance in the eighth grade, she would've said no. She knew now that she would've said no. "Not in a million years," she might have snapped.

"You can't feel bad for that," said Hotaru. "He was a jerk to you."

That was true. He'd always been a jerk.

"And I don't think you hated him all along, anyway. I think you liked him a little, deep down. The way you put so much value into everything he said, obsessing over his T-shirts, talking about him all the time. Isn't it possible you might've liked him too?"

Mikan just cried harder. Had she? Had she?

"I'm tired of crying about this-I've been crying so much…"

"Well, that's not new. You've always been a crybaby, haven't you?"

Hotaru put the personal statement back into the manila folder and then, when the drawer was closed, put her arms around Mikan for the first time in a very long time. Hotaru considered hugs to be "emergency measures," only to be used when no other method would work. Mikan wondered if she was overreacting.

But she wouldn't have traded her reaction for anything, since it meant being hugged like this by her best friend.

Ideally, Mikan would have reached out to Natsume as soon as she read his personal statement. She would've texted or-heck-even called, so they could talk things out and get over all this. Why not even just confess she liked him? That's what everyone kept telling her, that communication was the key in every relationship, so the most obvious thing to do was hit him up and demand a conversation.

But she didn't.

She was scared stiff of that conversation, because she couldn't honestly be expected to admit to all of it, could she? Ignoring the confession part (because that definitely wasn't going to happen), suddenly changing her tune on his statement would seem random unless she explained that she and her best friend had snuck into Narumi's classroom to illegally look at other students' homework assignments, and she got the feeling that admitting to that would not make her look very good in his eyes. And on top of all that, what was she supposed to say? "Sorry"? "Maybe you should have explained what you wrote even though now that I look back I didn't really give you the chance to"? Or maybe "You said it was one sentence and it wasn't so actually you were wrong from the start"?

No. She told herself she had to be ready to confront him, skewing Permy's advice to further suit her needs. Since she was not ready and had no idea what to say, she tried to push the dilemma out of her mind.

Besides, it wasn't like Natsume was dying to speak with her either. For weeks now he'd been ignoring her just as much as she'd ignored him. She didn't really understand why it hurt so much. They used to avoid each other like the plague most of the time, and there could be months between interactions without Mikan giving a hoot. But for some reason, this was different. She almost felt like he'd given up on her, like after wanting to dance with her and hiding his feelings behind cruelty for years like an idiot, he'd finally decided enough was enough and moved on. And that wasn't fair at all.

The one saving grace was that he wasn't insulting her, not to her face and not to any of his friends either. Whenever she lingered to overhear his conversations, they were never even remotely about her, but about the next Acadec topic, or video games, or Mochu's parents. It was like he wasn't even angry anymore, like he didn't care. And now that Mikan thought about it, that was less of a saving grace and more of yet another reason why she didn't want to start that conversation.

How humiliating would it be if she confronted him after class and confessed to all of that stuff-to liking him-just for him to say, "So what?" Just for him to say, "Yikes." Just for him to furrow his eyebrows and say, "Well, that ship's long gone, isn't it?"

And so she didn't. She let the weeks drag by, her own misery now compounded with anxiety. She was also keenly aware that she was annoying everyone around her, especially Hotaru, who would oh-so-subtly suggest every day that maybe today should be the day. Iinchou (who had been filled in by Hotaru one day when Mikan wasn't paying attention) tried to be understanding, as he always was, but kept asking her if it was really worse to tell Natsume why she was miserable instead of just being miserable all the time.

Mikan was half convinced that if she just left this alone and ignored it, eventually it would stop hurting, stop bothering her, stop meaning anything, and eventually she'd find herself entirely over it. Wishful thinking? Maybe, but it was all she had the courage to pursue.

And so it was June before any change happened, school drawing to a dangerous close.

Mikan spent a night in her bedroom filling out requests for next year's coursework, circling the proper language class, the proper math class, the proper science class-but paused over the section for elective.

She had received the "Most Improved Award" in addition to her "R. Mutt Award," and those had highlighted pretty clearly that her classmates did not perceive her as a burden. She hadn't stolen a spot from Kaoru after all, since he hadn't wanted to be on A Team anyway. And, most importantly, she'd ended up on A Team because Natsume had made a compelling case for what she could contribute. There was no good reason not to take Acadec again next year, except…

Except for Natsume.

"Are you planning on taking it again?"

"Only if you are."

Did he still feel that way? He had said that he liked Acadec the best of all electives, but he'd also made it clear he'd sign up for any elective Mikan signed up for. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at the memory. He probably didn't feel that way anymore, and since they weren't talking it's not like Natsume even knew what elective she was planning on taking.

She checked her phone in the hopes that maybe, while she'd been pondering this conundrum, he'd perhaps texted to ask, but there was no message-just a notification about her increased screentime over the past week.

"I'm going to take a break," she said out loud, leaning back in her bed and forgetting her class form in favor of opening up her text history with Natsume. She reread their old texts, giggling at the jokes, gazing admiringly at any pictures he'd sent her (a picture of a barbecue restaurant menu captioned with, "about to eat ur cousin"; or a picture of a blurry TV screen and video game console captioned, "just playing halo"; a realistic drawing of a cat he saw; but never a selfie), and tearing up at all the "talk to u later"s that sprinkled their conversations.

Then she reached the end, where Natsume had periodically sent messages (bids for connection, Tsubasa might have called them) that all went unreturned.

The last message was an inconspicuous hi, and the fact that she hadn't bothered to even passive aggressively reply to two letters made her gut wrench with guilt.

Her mother and Hotaru had both told her to consider what she wanted, but all she knew was that she didn't want this.

She wanted to write embarrassing messages on the knee of his jeans, to watch him doodle notes in the margins of her curriculum, to annoy him with her self-consciousness, to hold his hand when they walked somewhere, to see him on his knees by her desk again.

She missed him.

She missed that he looked like a bumblebee in his Acadec hoodie; she missed his drawings; she missed how quiet he'd get when he was uncomfortable; she missed how quiet he'd get when he was comfortable; she missed his sense of humor; she missed him calling her a pig or Polka Dots or by her name; she missed how clumsy and weird they were about kissing each other; she missed his boldness; she missed eating with him; she missed shoving him; she missed arguing with him; she missed chatting with him; she missed-

She missed him.

"What do you want, Mikan?"

"...ask yourself what it is you really want from him."

Mikan tossed her phone aside and sat back up, filling in her choice for elective.

The last dance of the year was just referred to as the End-of-the-Year Dance by the student body, and it was a big event. Mikan had volunteered a bit of her free time to do up the auditorium for it, if only to distract herself from all the chaos of her heart. The theme was some "Sweetheart" thing, so the auditorium was decked out in pastels and pinks and reds, cut-out hearts in the style of Sweethearts candy pasted on the walls and heart-shaped confetti all over the place.

It looked lovely and would no doubt be lots of fun, but Mikan wasn't much looking forward to it. She had to hear about it all the time from the other dance-committee members, but thankfully her friends didn't bring it up that often. Permy was doing a good job of not rubbing it in too much that she had a date to the dance when most of the people they knew didn't, but that was explained away less by consideration and more that Permy maintained that she didn't really care about going with Koko in the first place. For his part, Koko was always complaining about having to go with Permy too, even though he'd been the one to ask her, but it was all offset by his satisfied grin when he'd finish his complaints with, "But what are you gonna do?"

The rest of her friend group-which was most people involved in Acadec-had arranged to all go together, to make it a kind of party. Saturday inched closer and closer, and with it came the party, and Mikan woke up that morning with a terrible headache and a sense of dread that was unparalleled. Natsume was going to be at the dance. He'd signed up to be part of their party group. Avoiding him would be impossible.

It would be one thing if they'd be forced to talk about all the nasty things that had happened; it would be another if he didn't even care about it anymore.

Mikan and Hotaru got ready at Permy's house, since she was the best at makeup and her mother was excited about doing all their hairstyles. It took hours to get preened and pruned enough for the dance, and between snacking and joking and listening to pop music on Permy's stereo speakers, they were finally ready: Hotaru dressed in a soft gray gown, Permy in a silky emerald-green dress, and Mikan in that red dress she'd worn for the Acadec dance. It was her best dress and the only one that fit the occasion and she hadn't had inspiration to go dress-shopping again.

Koko arrived fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to, to Permy's annoyance, but she did let her mom snap some shots of them in the huge foyer of the house. Mikan bit back surprise when-after Koko and Permy had posed for ten minutes worth of pictures-Permy gestured for her and Hotaru to join them.

Mikan decided this drama with Natsume could wait just a bit longer. There was a whole other year of high school to stress about him and get back in his good graces. Tonight could just be a fun night with friends, and if he didn't want to talk to her, then it didn't matter. There was time; it wasn't like she was going to die tonight or something.

Her resolve was murdered immediately upon arriving at the auditorium doors, where the rest of their gang had gathered. The boys were all dressed impeccably, though undeniably most of them were wearing their subjective test suits. Tsubasa had Misaki on his arm, though she said she'd only come for the buffet. Ruka was scrolling through his phone, Iinchou and Mochu were quizzing each other on long-gone World War I history questions, and Natsume-

Natsume was standing just a bit to the side, his hands in his pocket and his gaze distant as he stared into space.

"Hey, guys!" Permy greeted and a flurry of chatting began immediately.

Mikan wanted to join the conversations, to laugh at the way Koko's hair looked with gel in it, or to tease Tsubasa like Misaki kept doing, but all she could do was hold her tongue and pretend like she wasn't glancing at Natsume all the time. Every once in a while, his voice would enter the fray to make some quip or answer a question, and her face would steam and redden and her stomach would perform some Olympics-worthy acrobatics and she decided it did matter very much if he didn't want to talk to her and that she was going to die tonight.

She let herself be dragged off by Permy for a bit of dancing, but not even music could take her mind off it because the last time she'd been at a dance like this, Natsume had wanted to dance with her and she'd apparently humiliated him. The food at the buffet wasn't as special as it had been made out to be, and Misaki only visited the table once (despite what she'd said, she actually spent most of the evening dancing with Tsubasa, even for the slow dances), and it was mainly Ruka and Hotaru who haunted the buffet, sharing cryptic conversation. That made sense, since Ruka was something of a wallflower and Hotaru was more interested in food than in dancing.

For hours, Mikan lost track of Natsume, but that didn't mean she didn't think of him the whole time. She kept imagining he'd show up and offer his hand and they'd dance and make up for everything because all she really wanted was to go back in time.

But he didn't.

She didn't see him again until the end of the dance, when her friends had gathered once more at the entrance to the auditorium with the intention of visiting a 24/7 breakfast place to get a late-night dinner before going home. He stood off to the side still, like he'd been there all along, and maybe he had. He didn't seem to notice her staring.

They managed to get themselves a table consisting of two tables smushed together when they arrived at the restaurant. Natsume sat at the opposite end away from her, like he tended to nowadays, and Mikan kept hoping despite everything that he might throw a jab at her, reply to her efforts to make conversation, or even look at her. But he didn't.

They ordered their food and drinks, laughter abounded, makeup smeared, and not once did Natsume even glance her way.

Maybe it was over. Maybe this was the end of everything, and she just had to be okay with that.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Natsume announced, scooting out his chair and leaving after a half-interested nod from Ruka.

Mikan got up too. "I have to go fix my makeup," she said, earning only one knowing look from Hotaru. The rest of them just hummed in acknowledgement. She left the table and went to the back of the restaurant. Hopefully this would all be wrapped up before the pancakes came out.

Instead of the women's restroom, Mikan took a deep breath, prepared for the worst, and stepped into the men's room.

Natsume was, thankfully, standing by the sink, washing his hands.

"Natsume."

He looked up at her but didn't even give her the satisfaction of surprise. His face remained blank.

"I want to talk to you."

"Do you?" he asked, shutting off the water and pulling two paper towels out of the dispenser. "You want to talk to me now? What did I do this time? Ruin your life? Fuck up your chances of getting married? Sabotage your dreams to go pro?"

Mikan scowled. "It's not like you haven't been a jerk to me for years, Natsume. You haven't exactly made a habit of apologizing."

"I did apologize," he argued. "I said sorry."

That was true. He did apologize for his statement, though now that she knew what he'd written, she no longer felt it was necessary. She just couldn't help but feel defensive. "How was I supposed to know, though?"

"Because I said sorry."

"No, not that-but your personal statement… How was I supposed to know what you'd written? You never told me."

"You didn't let me talk." He hesitated before asking, "How do you know what I wrote?"

Mikan didn't have a good retort to that. "Are you going to take Acadec next year?"

Natsume threw his paper towels into the garbage, but he didn't leave. "Why is that your business?"

"Because-Because I am, and you said you'd join whichever elective I chose, so I just wanted you to know I decided to keep taking it…"

"Okay." He crossed his arms like a toddler. "Well, I did too."

"I think you're a good asset to the class," she said slowly. "You're smart and you take things seriously and you're a good teacher. You inspired me to do better too."

"I don't get what you're doing. You ignored me for more than two months now, since the competition. Now you're acting sad, like I'm the one who jilted you. I tried apologizing. I don't know what you want from me."

What do I want?

"I like you," Mikan said softly. "I don't hate you at all. You're the funniest and smartest guy, and you're my favorite artist of all time. I was hurt at first, because I thought maybe you didn't see me as your equal, but when I read your personal statement, I realized I got the wrong idea, that you saw me as someone with something to contribute all along. I'm sorry I didn't let you explain. But you do owe me a lot of apologies for being a jerk! It's not like I was wrong the whole time for everything." She took a deep breath and let her words settle, but he didn't say anything; he just stared at her with that awful blank face. "And that's that. I guess. Did I get everything?"

He didn't answer.

Mikan bit her lip, summoning all the courage she could, so she could say five words more humiliating than any she'd ever said before. "Do you like me too?" she asked, so quietly it was hardly more than a whisper.

A moment of silence passed and Mikan's stomach twisted in dread. Then he nodded.

Mikan sighed in relief. "Okay. Well, then."

"I did like you," he corrected.

"Why do you have to be a jerk?!" Mikan snapped, a painful ache shooting through her heart. "I asked for a reason!"

He averted his eyes, clearly uncomfortable. "That's not what I meant. I meant that 'like' doesn't feel like the right word."

The ache in her heart did not subside. "Do you mean… Is it not… romantic?"

He looked back at her, wearing an expression that said, Are you really that stupid?

Maybe she was, maybe she wasn't, but she still needed him to say it for once. She was tired of this-of him carrying some torch for her and keeping it to himself and then hurting his own feelings with his inaction. She was tired of feeling guilty for not knowing he felt something he never conveyed.

"Yes," he seethed. "Yes."

"Then tell me what word would be better than 'like.'" As soon as she'd finished the sentence, she realized what word he meant. "Wait… You lo…?" But she couldn't bring herself to say it either.

"This was easier when we were ignoring each other," he grumbled.

"I think… I do too."

He snorted. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better. I don't care if you do or not. You hated me until very recently."

"Not that recently," Mikan whispered. "And I really do."

"You can't even say it."

"Neither can you." She fiddled with her fingers for a moment. "Maybe we can say it at the same time?"

"I don't wanna play a game."

"Okay, then. Maybe we don't need to say anything, then? Maybe we're just not ready to say it?"

"Maybe."

The ache in her heart had finally vanished. It returned with a fierceness when something occurred to her. "Does this not change anything? Do you still want to ignore me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Polka Dots…"

"You asked me what I wanted, and I am going to be honest and say it. I think you and me should go on a date, together. We should go eat food and see a movie and hang out somewhere. Then after, you can walk me home and I'll kiss you on the cheek and we can go steady. That's what I want."

She kept her gaze firm, but hadn't expected the quirk in his mouth, the upturning at the corners.

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, let's go on a date."

Mikan couldn't keep the grin off her face if she'd tried, but she didn't try. "Oh… well, that's cool."

She bounced on her heels and then started to turn to go back to the restaurant.

"You look really nice," Natsume said.

Mikan smiled-somehow-even wider. "Thank you. I love the color red."

"I… I love it too." He was smiling too, even though he was clearly embarrassed about it, but Mikan thought that just made him cuter.

"Fine!" she said, mostly to herself, walking towards him and kissing him. She pulled away just as suddenly, nervous. "Is that okay? I'm sorry-I should've asked-"

He cut her off with a kiss of his own.

Their food was cold when they came back out of the restroom.

---

Summer Study Sessions

---

"Did you finish the book yet?" Mochu asked. "I tried getting a head start before the end of June, but… to be honest I got distracted by playing old Spider-Man games."

Natsume huffed a laugh. "I haven't read it, no."

"That's because he's been spending every waking second with Sakura, though, not because he's gaming," Ruka rebuffed.

Mikan blushed and kicked the leg beside her. Natsume just kicked her back. "We have been studying a bit though!" She was mainly trying to save face in front of Hotaru, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously.

"Mikan, I will admit that you did quite well last year, but you can't rest on your laurels. There's very little curriculum overlap between World War I and India."

Narumi chose that moment to enter the classroom, saving Mikan from having to reply. He was wearing his favorite sparkly lavender letterman jacket with his surname on the back. "Welcome back, decathletes! I hope you've all been enjoying your summer!"

"I can't believe I'm in school during vacation," Koko moped, his head collapsing against his desk.

"I'm very familiar with the Music selections already," Sumire announced proudly, raising her hand. "I can help if anyone has any questions."

Tsubasa had moved on to college, so his favorite seat remained unoccupied, but that didn't mean he was truly gone. He was going to school close by, and during the summer he was texting Mikan and Natsume all the time-sometimes even face-calling them when they were together. He was throwing yet another pool party for his birthday-one last hurrah with his good high school friends before he and his girlfriend moved on to higher education.

The rest of last year's A Team was sitting here in this room, along with Hoshino and Kusami and a handful of new recruits, eager to get a head's start with the new curriculum. School had barely been out for a year and somehow so much had changed. Natsume and Mikan became an official couple, though they'd both been embarrassed to say so. Permy hadn't appreciated their announcement, but only because it had one-upped her own announcement that she and Koko were finally dating too.

Last year, Mikan had been beyond livid that Natsume would have the audacity to show himself in her elective class. But today, she'd been annoyed that he was five minutes late meeting her at the school entrance.

They introduced themselves, much like last year, going around in a circle ("Hi! I'm Sakura Mikan and I'm really good at Art!" and "I'm Natsume. I'm here because my girlfriend's here."), before proceeding to some light studying. They were ten minutes in before Hotaru leaned over and said, "If Ruka-kun intends to be on A Team again this year, he needs to work on a stronger speech." Hotaru's usually monotonous voice was laced with irritation, and Mikan couldn't help the amusement she felt.

"Do we have a no-dating policy again this year, Hotaru?" she asked, teasing.

"I always have a no-dating policy," Hotaru answered, but she turned away too quickly. "If you and Natsume-kun can prove yourselves to be capable despite your distracting relationship, I'll allow it, but I want you to know this is against my better judgment."

"And Koko and Permy…?"

"I hardly even noticed they were dating," Hotaru whispered as Narumi got up to fetch a spare binder for an incoming freshman. "I'm sure they'll be fine."

"And what about for Ruka-pyon?" Mikan asked.

"He needs to spend more time on subjectives," Hotaru replied, her voice cold but firm.

"I've already finished a rough draft of my next speech, Imai," Ruka said, overhearing.

"How presumptuous of you," Hotaru retorted. "To skip entirely through the peer brainstorming phase and immediately jump into writing a draft."

"That's what you did last year."

"My speech was good. Nobody had anything negative to say, if I recall."

"Because you're scary. Nobody had much to say about mine, either."

"Because it wasn't memorable. I don't even remember what your speech topic was."

"I don't remember yours either!"

Mikan couldn't help it; she beamed, turning to give Natsume a knowing look. He just shook his head.

"Not with her," he mouthed, but it was too late; Mikan's head was already planning the next year out. Maybe, by this time next year, Hotaru will have finally ditched her own no-dating rule.

Narumi returned with the binder for the kid and turned to the class cheerfully. "No arguing!" he said, looking pointedly at Hotaru and Ruka. "Or did we not see how that panned out for Mikan-chan and Natsume-kun last year?"

Hotaru and Ruka both shut their mouths resolutely, but Mikan didn't think things had turned out so badly for her after all.

She considered herself a pretty normal person, though with her own set of idiosyncrasies. Definitely not a nerd like most of her friends. She liked having fun and being outside and eating dessert. There was a short list of things she couldn't stand, but each year it got shorter. Studying and the color red had been removed from it in the last few months, along with the boy to her right, who had once been her sworn enemy.

The opposite of love isn't hatred; it's apathy. Love and hate were, at times, separated by the thinnest of lines, and stepping over it once in a while could lead to some interesting revelations. Like maybe that boy you've hated your whole life might be better at hugs than expected.

"This time," Mikan hissed to her boyfriend, who barely looked up when she leaned into his side. "Get in on your own merit, instead of piggybacking off me."

"Not a chance," he said back.

---

"You'll ache. And you're going to love it. It will crush you. And you're still going to love all of it. Doesn't it sound lovely beyond belief?" ― Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden